


Young and Beautiful

by itsaquinnquinnsituation



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 13:52:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsaquinnquinnsituation/pseuds/itsaquinnquinnsituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Born in the 1950s, we really were just a product of our time. So there's no one to blame... right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Young and Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and the characters, real or based off real persons, are not mine. I am not making any money off my work and this is for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> This is my universe and exactly how I see it. Writing should be enjoyed, not judged.
> 
> I don't think this is the best of my works, but it wouldn't leave me alone for two weeks, and so one sleepless night, it had to be written.

“So, ready?”

“Yeah, let me just...” – He slings his backpack into the back seat, - “Ok, we can go...”

Harry starts up the car and they remain in silence as they ride through the school grounds. The place is almost entirely empty and the sun is saying its goodbyes and see you’s until the next day. It is only after they are outside the main gate that Louis remarks:

“I heard them laughing again.”

“At you?” – Harry does not turn.

“No...”

“At me then.” – He chuckles, but his smile is gentle and good-natured as he shakes his head, - “What were they saying?”

“Nothing special. The usual... Einstein...”

Harry laughs:

“Einstein! You know, Lou, I really should have picked physics or chemistry, or mathematics at least! English and Einstein hardly go together!”

“Well, who would have known that your hair would age quite so wonderfully...” – Louis extends his hand to touch Harry’s almost completely white, sparse curls, but pulls it away promptly, noticing that Harry is about to turn away from the road towards him, gentle smile playing on his lips.

“They never laugh at you, though” – Harry responds, amused, - “They respect you far too much for that.”

“Well...” – Louis shakes his head, - “I don’t think tha...”

“I don’t mind it though” – Harry continues pensively, - “They are just kids. Kids will be kids.”

Outside, as they slowly drive through tiny windy backroads, maples and apple trees are shedding their golden and red manes on the ground, and as the sun hits the discarded foliage, it makes it shine with such brilliance of colour that Louis shades his washed out blue eyes with his hand. Harry smiles. It’s not always easy to notice things change when you see someone or something every day. They both witnessed the new drama theatre being built right next to the school. Problems with funding meant the project dragged on for two years. It was only opened two months ago, but now Harry cannot imagine it not being there. Seems like it has been there forever. He can say the same about the snow-white strands sneaking up here and there in Louis’s hair. How could it have ever been any different? How could it be that once they were handsome and young, and where did those years go? Humans are creatures of habit, and change is thought inevitable with the passage of time. But if most people are so change-averse, could it be that they have simply invented this concept of time just to help themselves cope? Harry sure hopes so, because he certainly can’t explain what happened to the past twenty years and why Louis’ hair is all shiny-brown in their older photographs. Harry never noticed it change...

They slowly drive up to a tiny cottage, the roof and front yard covered with the same flamboyant autumn blanket of leaves. Harry turns off the engine. Not a sound, not a whiff of wind, not a tremble of branch outside, and they sit just as quietly, daring not to disturb this tranquillity with their breaths. 

“Stay” – Harry says suddenly, placing his hands back on the wheel. Louis turns to him, eyes wide. Harry’s voice is eerily pointed and direct. 

“Stay” – Harry repeats quieter then and wheezes in a sharp, rugged breath, - “just stay here, I mean. In the car. Let me take you to mine. Make you some tea. We can watch the news if you want. Or we can sit outside and just look at all this...”

“Harry...” – Louis starts but it’s already too late. Harry shakes his head as he struggles to ease the words out of his mouth, not turning his head to the passenger in his car.

“It’s the same every time. I drive you home, I drive to mine. Sometimes, I drive you to the store. On the weekends, the same. I go home and drink tea. You go home and drink tea. But we never...”

“Harry!” – Louis begs now and looks at him with a frantic plea in his pale blue eyes, but he knows, now Harry will just keep going. He’s seen it before, when Harry’s been reading poetry out loud to the class or during graduation speeches, when the principal always picked him, invariably, because Harry never failed to leave students, even the worst ones, with tears in their eyes at the end. But not this, never, they never talk about this. This is and has for years been an unspoken taboo. And it’s not about following Harry home for a cup of tea, they’ve done that thousands of times of course over the years, no, it’s not about that at all... and Louis knows.

“I don’t understand it, Louis” – Harry shakes his head mournfully, - “Why do we even live in different houses, when I see you every single day and drive you everywhere, and we.... It makes no sense, it never did! You go home to be alone and so do I, and I just... What are you afraid of?” – He turns to Louis finally and there are tiny tears in his eyes, - “You’re not afraid of the kids, are you? Well, you’ve said it yourself. They’d never laugh at you. So who are you afraid of? What is it, Louis? What is it?”

Louis is silent, looking the other man in the eye. Then, awkwardly, he looks away and reaches for his backpack in the back seat:

“I have to... Have a good night.”

He looks at Harry again as he closes his car door and he sees him, frozen with that hurt expression on his face, lips turned down.

“Harry, don’t...” – He almost whispers through the open car window, - “So... I’ll see you tomorrow?”

 

But he doesn’t. 

The first time he realizes it, is when Harry does not come down to the staff room, steaming red polka dotted mug and a box of biscuits in tow. Harry has been late to pick him up for school in the morning countless times before – usually, he overslept, as it happens, so earlier Louis was not too concerned about walking twenty five minutes to school, and he was ready to grumpily call Harry out on his lack of punctuality; but now, ten minutes after the bell, when the room is already bustling with teachers, Harry is still nowhere in sight. Louis phones him and, hearing repeated beeping five times in a row, gives up. He twists his head every which direction, but now it is only him sitting on a sun-lit worn out sofa, the spot where Harry would always be - empty...

He gets up, heart beating in his ears, and runs almost squarely into a young physics teacher at the door, almost sweeping her off her feet with his small frame.

“Have you seen Harry?” – He breathes out, blocking her way, blinking wildly.

“Who?” – She’s got that deer in the headlights look, and Louis collects himself for a second, before rephrasing:

“Mr. Styles. Have you seen him today, I can’t seem to...”

“No... No, I haven’t... But then he’s not... You’d better check out the English base, he might be...”

And Louis is not listening anymore, he is almost running, untouched hot tea with milk splashing out of his mug. They know him at the English base, fifteen years at the same school and all, and they take in his dishevelled appearance and frantic panting with understanding nods, but Harry is nowhere to be found and nobody has heard from him since the night before.

He proceeds down the hallway to his classroom where the students are already gathered outside, chatting, and some say hello to him as he walks by, and he tries to push open the door, realizing some seconds later that he is yet to unlock it. He lets them in without greeting, and they enter, all eyes on him as he writes something on the board, boring reading for them to do, but they do it without questioning, not a whisper, not a pencil dropping on the floor, only their heads, here and there, lifting up to anxiously take in his unseeing eyes as he stares right through the book on his desk...

At lunch time in the staff room, he tries Harry again, with the same outcome. The school had already sent a support worker out to his house, but Harry’s car is gone from the front yard; and the man returns back to school empty-handed. 

“Go” – Louis hears suddenly and only now realizes that a hand on top of his arm belongs to another chemistry teacher, few years his senior.

“What?” – He hoarsely makes out, his throat dry, vocal cords stiff.

“Go to his house. I know you want to. You can’t be.... you shouldn’t...” – He follows her stare down to his own hand holding the tea mug and notices just how much it is shaking.

“It’s just that he never... he’s never.... before.... disappeared like that... He’s got... you know he has that.... that hea.... heart t-thing, I...”

“Go, Lou” – She squeezes his arm and it hurts him deep down in the pit of his stomach somewhere, to hear her call him the name that only Harry now calls him, - “What is it, 4th years that you have next, I’ll mind them. Or Angus will. We’ll figure it out, don’t worry. Just go, Lou. Go.”

And he does, literally, he does, just goes, just hands her his tea mug and all, swings by the base to pick up his backpack, and just walks directly to Harry’s house, full fifty minutes or so, eyes straight down, unseeing, unhearing. He never bothered to figure out the local bus system, not in the fifteen years they both have been living in this town; he never needed to – Harry’s always had a car, and Louis has always had Harry... He winces.

He stops in front of Harry’s place for a second, eyes the quiet peaceful little house – much like his own – before pulling out his set of keys. There are 4 keys and two old key chains in disarray, but the key to Harry’s house and the one to his own share a ring...

He opens the door without hesitation and walks in. He’s been here before, numerous times of course, every week at least once, that’s – at least, but always – with Harry, always with him laughing, telling endless stories, making tea whilst wearing that old apron from his mother, and they’ve sat out on the back porch, on the swing, listening to it creak, as Harry swung them both, a little, pushing off with his long, slender legs.

But now, it is quiet and empty, and Louis shivers as he desperately searches the forsaken abode with his eyes for answers. It is clean and neat, as it always is with Harry, not a thing out of place. Louis walks through, a little, just a few steps down the hallway, before he can’t anymore, and he turns and almost runs out, the place so strange and foreign without Harry. He barely stops to lock it, before hurrying back to his own house, hot tears obscuring his eyes, bright foliage having turned into ugly smeared blobs. 

He drinks all night, shivering under a wool blanket, having exhausted his cell phone battery and turned to home phone instead. He falls asleep with the light on, on the couch and wakes up in a fog. It’s a Saturday, so he drinks more. 

All day and then all evening, he is sitting there, wide eyes staring right through the news on the telly, tree shadows playing carelessly on his empty wall when he hears that unmistakable rustle of a car approaching. Something clicks in his clouded mind, but a few seconds too late, so by the time he has finally arrived at the door, panting and having nearly slipped on linoleum, the door is already opening. And it only takes him a split second of a look at the visitor before he drops a remote which is still in his hand, grabs him by the neck and drags him inside. 

The guest smells of something unfamiliar and foreign but it barely matters as Louis’ nose is mostly plugged up with tears and he snores wildly, struggling to breathe as he presses his face frantically into the man’s overcoat. His violent grip is reciprocated with a gentle hug from the visitor, his hands drawing circles on Louis’ back.

“Where have you been?” – Louis manages to finally rip his face away from the visitor’s shoulder and step back just enough to look at his face. Harry leans away slightly to look Louis in the eye, but keeps his arms around his friend. His face is tired and ashen and he shakes his head.

“What is it?” – Louis squeaks wildly and his drunken fog is gone in an instant as he scans Harry’s exhausted face for clues.

“My mother.... died” – Harry manages finally and Louis exhales:

“That... I.... “ – He looks at Harry again, - “I’m sorry. I’m sorry to hear that. Is it... have you...?”

“My sister will take care of it, she offered. It’s easier that way. But I... will you come with me when it’s time for the...”

“Yes, yes of course” – Louis nods as he squeezes Harry’s arms through the overcoat, - “I just... did they...”

“Called me, yeah. In the middle of the night. I don’t know. We’ve expected it, of course, but I just... freaked out. Just hopped in my car and took off. Left my phone somewhere at home. Totally forgot to call into school. Have they...”

“It’s fine, it’s... don’t worry” – Louis only now realizes that there are tears streaming down his face and wipes them off, and just stares at Harry.

“What is it?” – Harry shrugs, almost amused at Louis’ death grip.

“I just” – Louis starts and his voice shakes and breaks into high pitch again, - “I thought... now I know it’s your mother, but I thought.... I thought it could be you... with your heart thing... you know... and after... after that conversation... that when...”

“Don’t” – Harry says and drops his arms, stepping away, - “I won’t say a thing anymore. And this is not the time... I better go home now. I came straight to yours, so I have to...”

“You asked me” – Louis inhales sharply, advancing, - “You asked me what I’m afraid of... I am not afraid of anyone.”

Harry looks at him with tired eyes. Louis inhales again, trembling with his whole body.

“I am not afraid of the kids. Not afraid of the teachers, hell, if it had anything to do with them, I’d retire in a second, I am ready for that any time. Their opinion means nothing to me, I don't care about it at all and I haven't for a very long time."

Harry stands still, unresponsive and slumped. 

“I’m not afraid of anyone else. Just this. This” – Louis motions his hand between himself and Harry, - “I’ve never... It’s never been like... Like...”

“Say it like it is” – Harry offers quietly, - “You’re not into men, you’ve never considered yourself... gay, well, neither have I” – he pauses, - “I’ve never been... like... like this... close... with any... m... any other men... Not when we were younger, not now. But what I was saying then, in the car... what I’m saying now is that... Remember how we met at Willows Mill? You walked into the staff room and went to sit on the couch in front of me? And you smiled and nodded at me, didn’t ask for my name. That day we were both late to our classes because we didn’t even hear the bell...”- Harry smiles, - “You were dating Eleanor at that time, I was single... Then you left and got a spot at Fairgrove. I followed you five months later. I met Caroline at that school... You broke up with Eleanor and went to teach in Korea. I wrote to you every week, sent it snail mail. You came back and joined me at...”

“I didn’t come back just then, Harry, I also went to Japan for six months” – Louis corrects him with a smile.

“Right” – Harry smiles in response, - “Always forget that one. Then we were at Engleside High for two years, I broke up with Caroline and we came here. And this has been our life, Louis. You realize it? This has been our whole life.”

Louis is silent.

“And I’ve never said anything, not a word, never asked you for anything more, because I wanted to do what you wanted, whatever you wanted, I wanted to do right by you. And there never has been somebody to mean to me as much as you do, and here we stand, some twenty five years later, and I still don’t know what is going on, but I couldn’t and never would try to stop it. I know we’ve... tried to... talk about it before... long time ago... sometime in the eighties... when we were still young and good-looking, when we could have still done something to change it, to maybe go our own separate ways, I don’t know, but...”

“I’m scared” – Louis whispers, interrupting him and Harry stops:

“What?”

“That. What you said earlier. I’ve never been... like that. Not that way. I... would have no idea what to do. I wouldn’t know... and then if I couldn’t be what you wanted me to, I would... feel... just...”

“I never asked you for anything” – Harry raises his voice above the whisper, - “And I would think I’d be the last person to make you feel embarrassed. And if this has been your only concern this whole time, I would...I don’t know, I wouldn’t even know what to say...”

“It’s not”- Louis continues, not lifting his eyes, - “that... what you said... there was... there always was something. I never told you, but I didn’t go to Korea to forget about Eleanor. I stopped caring about her long before that, if I ever did at all. I went to get away from you... only I couldn’t. It was useless. Be it in Korea, in Japan, or in fucking Antarctica, you’re there in my head, you’re a part of my soul, you’re a part of my own self, my personality, wherever I go, you go as well. So I came back...”

“Louis....”

“The times were different then, of course, and I was but a product of the times. I was scared to lose my job, but even more, I was scared to lose you, because then I would also lose my mind, no doubt. I was terrified to ruin what we had, whatever we had, somehow, whatever it was, so if it worked fine, just doing what we did, working at the same school and going on vacations together, then I would do that... It’s really daft maybe, looking back, but I was always so scared... and by the time I stopped caring about what people think, you got diagnosed with that heart thing, and then I became really terrified that I couldn’t... that I could end up hurting you, and that really... that really the time to change anything or to start something new has long passed... That what we have left is grey hair and news channels. That I really can’t offer you anything more than that...”

“Louis...”

And Louis just stands there, greasy salt-and-pepper hair hanging in a mess, worn out sweater and track trousers. And Harry stands, long brown overcoat contrasting wildly with his white Einstein locks. 

“And now I’ve gotten a taste of what it could be like. That I really wouldn’t even know if something happened to you... that I wouldn’t be by your side... and that for all you’ve done for me staying by me through all those years, that maybe I have not done my part, and then what you said in the car, I.... I can’t. I couldn’t live with it anymore” – Louis lifts his eyes, - “So if you’re willing to try it... after all I’ve put you through with my shame, confusion, self-hatred and fear, if there’s anything I can give, anything you still want, whatever is left of me for however long I have left, it’s all yours, I’m all yours... if you want.”

They both stand in silence, Harry looking down, Louis looking at him and trembling wildly. Finally, Harry moves towards the open front door. 

Only he doesn’t exit. Just closes it quietly, turns around and lifts his eyes up to Louis’.


End file.
